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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years

Text

Connor Rhodes x Reader Motherfucking Done

requested prompt: Hey!😊 Could you write an imagine with Connor Rhodes, like the reader is a doctor, and he is jealous of her friendship with Will? Cute ending maybe. Thank you so much

written by: @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, pregnancy complications, this is shit, I’ll probably redo it later, but I’m so tired and stressed, oh and Cornelius Rhodes murdered his wife and no one can tell me otherwise

You and Connor returned to the U.S. as fast as you could. Connor more anxious than you, but then again, he had reason to. Two weeks ago you and your husband were at a party thrown by one of his patients at his penthouse. His massive, over the top, Fast and Furious 7 penthouse. It was three stories with a balcony with a pool. You and Connor always felt out of place at these parties, not even Connor had grown up around such extravagant wealth. But you made do, it was part of doctor-patient culture apparently, so you went. You hadn’t been feeling all that well, nauseous and with a skull-splitting headache. Connor had gotten another email from his sister, so you didn’t want to stress him out more than he already was. You and Connor had mostly stuck to the shade of the indoors, but eventually, you both had to go outside. Connor went to socialize with the host while you went to the third floor to the balcony that hung over the pool. There was a bar there, but you weren’t interested in alcohol. You didn’t think you could stomach it, but you hadn’t been able to stomach anything lately. You’d just sat at a table with a large umbrella and ordered a water.

You’d started feeling dizzy, the heat was suddenly beyond unbearable. You started panting and you knew that stressed out or not, you needed to tell Connor what was going on and leave. Something was very, very wrong. You turned in your seat, waving trying to get his attention. You leaned against the railing while still sitting down and he didn’t notice again. So and flimsy, shaking legs you stood up, clutching the railing. Sweat was pouring down your face and neck, it became so much more difficult to breathe, you were about to try yelling his name over the blaring music when, in a matter of seconds, you felt like you were going to faint, your entire body went limp, and you fell unconscious.

When you woke up you were, not only in a hospital, but the one you worked at. Connor, who was clutching your hand and praying in Hebrew noticed you stirring. “Y/N, sweetheart? Oh thank heavens, how are you feeling?”

“Groggy. What happened?”

“You fell off of the balcony at the top on the penthouse, three stories into the pool. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“It wasn’t bad when we left for the party, for most of the time we were there even. It was just at the end, I tried to wave at you, but looking back on it I probably should have just gotten one of the waiters to get you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be. The, uh, the doctors found out what was wrong though.”

“Really? What? Oh please tell me it’s not cancer, you know I’ve got a family history of that.”

“No, you don’t have cancer. You, uh... You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant? Like with a baby?”

“Yeah, heat just doesn’t agree with some women and pregnancy though, so we need to move.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah, you are... We’re going to be parents.”

“We’re going to be parents.” The dam finally broke and happy tears flooded your face. Connor joined you seconds after, but his tears were a combination of joy and relief, after all, he did watch you fall three stories into a pool.

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You and Will had gone to med school in New York together. You’d been fair acquaintances, but he was a bit too cocky and you were a bit too serious. You both decided to have two specialties, the one you shared was emergency department medicine. You became Facebook friends, but that was about it. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d see him in person again unless there was a reunion. So you were a bit surprised when you ran into him on your way to your OB appointment. “Y/N? It’s been a while, how are you?”

“I’m doing great. Really, really great, actually. I didn’t know that you came back to Chicago, though. When we were in school you always said you’d never come back.”

“Things changed. Congrats, by the way,” Will gestured to your obviously pregnant belly, “how far along are you? How are the symptoms?”

“Five months. Uh, the symptoms have been really bad. And I’m just on my way to an appointment though so I should get going. But maybe we could get dinner sometime, I’d love for my husband to meet you so that he’ll finally believe all the crazy med school stories I have thanks to you. He works here too, actually.” You weren’t kidding, pregnancy had taken a huge toll on you. You had wretched morning sickness, high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, and a pregnancy-related iron deficiency. It was a quick walk from the entrance to the elevator to the OB ward, so you thought you’d be fine, but you were starting to feel weak and Will noticed. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I need to sit down.” Will whipped around and grabbed a wheelchair for you, helping you to get in. “What’s wrong do I need to call your doctor or husband?”

“Honestly, I already feel better, but would you mind taking me to OB or getting someone else who can? This has just been a difficult pregnancy overall, so feeling faint really isn’t unusual for me.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, I’m just gonna text Connor and let him know, he was going to try to meet me there if he can get away from work for a minute.”

“You don’t happen to mean Connor Rhodes, do you?”

“I do, why?”

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You found out why when Connor burst through the doors just after you and Will had entered. He kissed you on your forehead and gave you a once over. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Connor, I’m okay. I just started feeling weak so Will got me a wheelchair. I think that I was just on my feet too long, well too long while pregnant. I really hate that I can’t do what I used to be able to...”

“I know, but you should have just gotten help at the door, here let’s go talk to Dr. Hajjar. Thanks, Halstead, I’ve got it from here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Will!”

“You heard me, Rhodes, why didn’t you meet her at the car or entrance? You can’t really think you’re too important to help your pregnant wife.”

“Will that’s not-”

“That’s enough Halstead, you should get back to the ED, where your obnoxious presence is actually required.”

“Okay, that’s more than enough jabs from both of you. Will, thank you for helping me get here after I tried to get here myself when I probably shouldn’t have, Connor, I’m sorry for being so stubborn and I’m glad you had time today to come to another of my appointments which are happening more and more frequently.”

Will and Connor begrudgingly nodded at each other. “Thanks for getting her here safe Halstead.”

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You decided to hold off on dinner together after seeing how little they got along. Having only realized at that first meeting that the ‘doctor douche’ your husband ranted about so much was your friend from med school. So instead you did what you could to keep the peace whenever you were in the hospital, which was frequent, but their pissing contest was grating on your nerves. It all came to a head the day you went into labour two weeks early. Connor was finishing up a surgery with Dr. Downey so Will was the one in the ED when you were rolled in. “Get Connor, Will.”

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“YES I’M SURE!”

Connor came running into treatment four minutes later and gently kissed you all over your face. “I’m here, Y/N. I love you so much.” Will, who had been holding your hand while you waited for Connor, scoffed.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WILLIAM?! I AM SO OVER THIS SHITTING CONTEST YOU HAVE WITH CONNOR. YOU ARE BOTH GROWN-ASS MEN GET OVER YOURSELVES. YOU ARE BOTH GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO EACH OTHER AND HUG RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I AM MOTHERFUCKING DONE!”

“Y/N-”

“WILLIAM SEAMUS HALSTEAD I KNOW THAT YOUR MOTHER TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN TO INCUR THE WRATH OF A PREGNANT WOMAN!”

“I’m sorry, Will.”

“I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Y/N Y/L/N you are officially my favourite person in the world, I was just about to ring their necks!”

“No problem Maggie.” You gave a weak smile as another contraction hit and Dr. Hajjar looked under the blanket before nodding. “Alright, Y/N, it’s time to push. If you’re not her husband or part of the delivery team; get out.”

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Five days later you were still in the hospital, because of all the complications you’d had during pregnancy. Dr. Hajjar wanted to make sure your blood pressure wasn’t a high average before she discharged you. So when Natalie went into labour, you could hear her screams from down the hall. You’d also been where Will briefly went to hide with his tail in between his legs after Helen, Natalie’s mother in law, dressed him down. When you heard her screaming for Will, where he was, you gave Connor one look before he sighed and called Will.

Connor briefly appeared at his father’s ‘I-want-control-as-much-of-my-son’s-life-as-possible-so-I-donated-money-in-my-wife’s-name-for-mental-health-when-it’s-mostl-likely-that-I-murdered-her’ ceremony. He only went for the speech, and when it was over he approached his sister. “Connor, it’s nice to finally see you. You’ve been back in Chicago how long?”

“Almost four months. I, uh, want you to meet my wife and daughter.”

“You- what? Who? How?”

“Well I personally have absolutely no idea how I got lucky enough to have a baby with my wife Y/N, much less have her love me as much as I love her, but I’ve decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“Five days today.”

“Oh my God... When can I-”

“Now. You can meet them now.”

“I’ll get dad-”

“Claire don’t. Please. He’s the reason I left Chicago, you’re the reason I came back. I just don’t want the happiness I feel to end just yet.”

“Okay.” She hooked her arm around his as he led her out to the hall. “Did you really come back for me?”

“Well Y/N couldn’t stand the heat while pregnant, but you’re the reason we came back here and not to Seattle.”

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You were cradling your bundle of joy and poop, Aviva Nadya Rhodes, in the lounge chair when Connor and Claire came in. “Hi, you must be Claire, I’m Y/N.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too. Is it okay if I hold- Aviva?”

“Sure, here just sit down on the loveseat and I’ll pass her to you.”

“Oh, she’s so tiny. And she looks just like you Y/N. Doesn’t look like she got anything from Connor. You sure are a lucky girl, huh?” Claire had Aviva’s head in the crook of her elbow and was giving the infant an unbridled, beaming smile.

”Hey! Stop trying to turn my daughter against me.”

“Connor don’t worry, you’re going to be an amazing dad and she is going to love you so, so much. I can feel it.”

“Y/N’s right, Connor. You’re going to do great, plus I’m only joking, I promise. Aren’t I, my sweet, sweet girl?”

“She loves my daughter more than she loves me.”

“I’d normally say no and try to reassure you, but she does,”

“And that’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, exactly. I love you, Connor.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

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Sorry this was so bad, I’ll probably re-do this at some point cause I really like the whole faint-cause-pregnant-move-to-Chicago storyline I came up with.

Again, sorry.

#One Chicago #chicago med #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #will halstead #maggie lockwood #Natalie Manning

164 notes · View notes

profoundnet · 4 years

Photo

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR OCTOBER 2019!

Featuring works from @saywhatjessie, @mittensmorgul, ArielAquariel, @doespeterparkerisgay, @banshee1013, @andimeantittosting, Erratus, @cool-fallen-angel, @malallory, @castielslostwings, @nickelkeep, @bringmefleshandbringmewine, @sarasaurussex, iCeDreams, @emiliaoagi, @leafzelindor and @rauko-is-a-free-elf!

Masterpost below the cut.

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And, you know, they live happily ever after.

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Sam leaned around Rowena, his arm draped over her shoulder, "What do you mean he'd want to be prepared?"

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"Magda's getting her own room. Emma's getting a new person in the room. They're splitting you two up." Garth looked pathetically at Dean. "You're getting a new partner."

Dean instinctively kicked out, sending him backward and onto the floor. "Ow. What?"

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"What's that?" Dean spat.

"Dean," Sam softly interjected. "The angels may not want or need Claire anymore because she can no longer be an angelic host, but she is still tied to a source of grace." They all looked at the Fallen.

"I can protect myself!" Claire spoke up. "What do you think I had to do when Castiel couldn't come to me thanks to the stupid rules you all have in place!?"

"Can you protect yourself from three or four or five angels?" Bobby stared at her. "I'll give you one or two, you're a spitfire. But they want him. They're not going to take it light and risk losing a couple when they need all hands on board."

"So what? You want to keep her here?" Dean asked.

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Hey there, and welcome to another quick how-to video with Impala Repairs! I'm your host, D.W., and in today's episode, I'm going to show you the best way to stop a door's hinges from squeaking.

Gabe reached over and pushed up on Cas' chin. "Cassie? You alive over there?"

Cas nodded.

"You need a global reboot?"

Cas pulled his eyes off the screen and shot his brother a look that could kill. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means," Gabe reached over and took Cas' coffee, "that you were A, so infatuated with Old Green Eyes on the screen there, you almost dumped your coffee on yourself, and B, you have no idea how to fix the door."

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Dean's mouth failed to move, entranced as he was with the gorgeous man in a firefighter's uniform in front of him. Charlie shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Call your guys off so nothing is destroyed by water, and we'll show you." She turned the firefighter back to the entrance and waited 'til he was outside before smacking Dean. "Rush your blood back to your head, will you?"

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"Can't find one. Charlie's still not back. Jody's taking Donna on a hunt."

Cas looked up. "Well, there was a lesbian couple that went missing. You can choose a male partner."

"I was hoping you'd say that, Cas." Sam shot a look at Dean before smiling at Cas. "Will you do me the honor of being my fake husband for a case?"

"Excuse me?" Dean shot a look at Sam.

"Well, I'm not asking you, Dean." Sam shook his head. "That's... Yeah, no."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest again. "Why are you and Cas going? Cas is my best friend. He and I can pull it off better than you two can."

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prolixdreams - @bringmefleshandbringmewine - prolixdreams

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It’s getting harder and harder to die.

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Proper alcohol, the poisonous kind, was banned almost immediately once a safer synthetic got a foothold in the market.

Every pill and patch is equipped with tiny computers to detect blood levels of a chemical and only release their payload when the concentration dips below a pre-set threshold, making overdose nearly impossible with anything obtained legally.

Even sweeteners are tightly regulated and highly taxed.

And now, January 17th, 2089, Castiel’s tablet feeds him another headline that promises longer, safer lives for all:

HUMAN-DRIVEN CARS FINALLY OFF ROADS FOR GOOD

Tags: Major Character Death (Implied/Referenced), Future Fic, Castiel drives the Impala

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While leaving the steam capital, he inadvertently meets Emmanuel, a man with secrets of his own, intriguing Dean enough to offer him a ride to a common destination.

It’s a serendipitous encounter, a trip across the country, and a chance to find where they need to be.

Tags: Steampunk, Arranged Marriage, Road Trip, Running Away

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Tags: Smut, Humor, Meta, Crack

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Goose!Dean Crack Post 2 (SFW)

Goose!Dean really wants that burger. Cas disagrees.

LeafZelindor - @leafzelindor -

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Just the short collection of the destiel pics I did during Inktober/suptober.

Art for Crayons and Candybars (SFW)

Artwork done for the DCBB fic Crayons and Candybars, written by I. Franco

rauko-is-a-free-elf - @rauko-is-a-free-elf - FeaRauko

Ocean’s Brawl (M, 55k)

In a time of oppression, the Winchester brothers and their family of misfit pirates sail the seas attacking slave traders and offering the liberated passage to safe-havens, or–if they choose it–a home on the Impala as part of Team Free Will.

Dean meets Castiel, a Naval Captain with orders to enlist him and his band of honorable sea rovers as privateers. Dean refuses, but they end up working together when Castiel offers his vessel as transport for some rescued slaves. Castiel, in turn, travels with Dean as collateral to ensure there is no foul play.

Along the way, Castiel witnesses the horrors of slavery and begins to doubt his cause, even fighting alongside Dean against a French vessel–Castiel’s own people. Castiel comes to admire this wild crew and their kind hearts…perhaps falling for one man in particular.

Tags: pirate!Dean, naval officer!Cas, enemies to lovers, team free will, openly bi!Dean, demisexual!Cas, swashbuckling, battles, shanties

Rapunzel, Rapunzel (SFW)

Art for @diminuel‘s fic, Rapunzel, Rapunzel

Tags: Rapunzel!au, fairy tale!au, prince!Dean, witch!Cas

Bisexualdemondean - outfit (SFW)

Art created for bisexualdemondean in response to the question: "What if I just wanted to look sluttier?"

Tags: demon!dean art, bisexualdemondean art

Autumn - Eileen (SFW)

Art for Day 1 of winchester-reload's suptoberart challenge

Tags: Eileen Leahy

"Good Thing I'm Yours, Then" (SFW)

Art for winchester-reaload's suptober challenge: Day 3 - Royalty Inspired by @casbeanwrites‘ fic Kiss Me Where I Lay Down

Tags: servant!Dean, prince!cas, fic art

"Kids These Days" - Art for Clarity (SFW)

Destiel art for @aloha-cowgirl‘s fic Clarity

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #spn #profound monthly masterpost #profoundnet #october masterpost #member fic #member art #member graphic

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bee-kathony · 6 years

Photo

Fraser Memorial | Ch. 3 “Movie Date”

Thank you @sassenachwaffles for being my beta for this chapter!

Ch. 1 - Sutures | Ch. 2 - Maybe This Time

Present Day

Taking a sip of my coffee, I scanned my surgery schedule for the week quickly. I had a major surgery today; one of my patients who I’d been seeing for the last three years was finally getting a heart transplant. Days like this always made me nervous, would the heart take to it’s new owner? Was all the waiting worth it?

Jamie’s hands rested on top of my shoulders, lightly kneading the hard knots that were a constant presence on my body. “Ye’ll do great today, Claire. Ye always do.”

“Thanks,” I sighed, tapping my fingers on my journal. “I just really want this to work — not only for me, but for Joe as well.” Joe Abernathy would be getting his new heart today, he was strong. I knew he could handle it.

Joe was also a close friend. He had been there from the start of mine and Jamie’s relationship; there to offer advice and to tell me when I was being daft over some small issue.

“I’ll drop by his room after the surgery today,” Jamie kissed the top of my head, smoothing my curls.

“He’d love to see you.” I stood from the table, drinking the last sip of coffee as I reached for my bag on the chair.

“Do you want to drive or shall I?” I asked, holding out the keys.

“I ken ye think I’m a granny driver, Sassenach,” he rolled his eyes playfully at me. “But it’s only to keep ye safe. Ye and the bairn.” His eyes drifted down to my stomach and I slid my hand across it.

“You don’t know.” It had been two weeks since my missed period, and I was never late. I should have known Jamie would be tracking my bodily functions.

“Aye, I don’t, but I know you.” He stepped closer, slipping an arm around my waist. “I ken yer body better than you do. Yer breasts…” he ran his thumb lightly across my nipple over my scrubs. “They’re bigger, and ye’ve got a glow about ye.”

“I don’t want to jinx anything,” I sighed and leaned my head against his chest. The last time my period was late by a few days, we had gotten our hopes up only to have them crushed the next day when a small spot of blood showed up on our bed sheets.

“There’s nothin’ wrong wi’ hopin’ is there, Sassenach?” Jamie held me to him, his heart beating steadily under my ear.

“No, I suppose not.” Jamie grabbed the keys from my hand. We drove to work with the windows down. As the summer air blew across my cheeks, I allowed myself to hope for the thing I wanted so badly in this world, a child of my own.

2015

I changed my outfit probably five times before deciding on a pair of black jeans that hugged my arse, accompanied with a thin green sweater. The air was crisp, but not quite cold enough to fathom lugging around a coat the entire evening. Besides, if I got cold, maybe Jamie would be a gentleman and offer me his coat.

“Yer wearing that?” Geillis stood in my doorway, disapproval crossing her face. I’d asked her to come over to help get me ready for my date with Jamie.

I looked again in the mirror, “Yes. What’s wrong with a green sweater?”

“Och, nothing.” She smirked, “If ye want the man to think of vomit whenever he looks at ye, ye’ve achieved it wi’ that sweater.”

Rolling my eyes, I huffed out a frustrated sigh, and pulled off the sweater. “Fine. You pick something then since you’re such an expert.”

Geillis smiled, and crossed the room to my open closet, where clothes were strewn about in a mad rush to pick an outfit.

“Those jeans are good, we’ll stick wi’ those.” She pulled out a red camisole and held it up, but decided against it, letting it fall to the floor.

“Geillis, don’t make more of a mess.” I grumbled and bent to pick up the articles of clothing she was flinging around the room.

“Yer closet is already a mess, Claire. What’s a few more pieces?” She laughed and stood on her tiptoes to reach for a black sheer shirt, that I hardly ever wore. In fact… I’d never worn it.

“No! I’m not wearing that on my date. It’s practically see through.” I took a step back from Geillis as she pulled it off the hanger.

“That’s just the point, Claire. Ye want him to get a good look at what ye’ve got to offer, but still leave a little something to his imagination.”

She was right, as always.

I held out my arms for her and she squealed, sliding the sleeves over my arms as she dressed my like her rag doll. When she clasped the small button at the back, I turned to take a look in the mirror, and was pleasantly surprised to find that I didn’t hate it.

“Not bad, Beauchamp.” She slapped my arse, and I jumped, swatting at her hand.

My buzzer rang, and Geillis shouted “Come in!” I gave her a cross look, but smiled, she was having too much fun with this.

“Sassenach?” Jamie’s voice called from the living room, and I walked out. The look on his face when he saw me, had the butterflies stirring in my stomach. Thanks Geillis.

“Wow.” He held out both of his arms to me, “Just look at ye, Claire. Absolutely stunnin’.” Blushing, I took his hand, and let him turn me towards the door.

“Just lock my door when you leave, alright, Geillis?” I paused in the doorway, hoping Jamie didn’t see her making kissy faces at us. I flicked my middle finger up at her, and shut the door as fast as I could.

++++++

“Ye do look verra bonny, tonight.” His arm slipped across my back as we walked up to the theater’s entrance. The thin material of the shirt left very little to the imagination, and I could feel the heat from his palm on my skin.

“Thank you,” I blushed, pulling back a curl behind my ear.

“Two for ‘Titanic’.” Jamie paid for our tickets, and led us into the movie theater. “Ye want popcorn, Sassenach?”

“Is that even a question?” I laughed, and we got in line for concessions. “Did you really cry watching this movie?”

“Aye. I tried no’ to, but I was young and impressionable when I first saw it.”

“Did you see it when it first came out? What was that… 1997?” I grabbed my drink from the concession and a few napkins, stuffing them into my purse.

“Och, no. I woulda been only seven years old. No way was my mam lettin’ me see that movie.” He nudged my side, “Wi’ that steamy car scene.”

“Oh good.” I laughed, “So that makes us about the same age then, I was born in 1989.” We walked into the theater and to my surprise it was virtually empty.

“An older woman,” he smirked, taking the stairs two at a time and chose the row at the back of the theater. “I knew ye were wise, but I ken why now.”

A few more people trickled in, but we were still the only ones near the back of the theater. When the lights dimmed and the first trailer started, Jamie and I simultaneously put our legs up on the back of the chairs in front of us. We both started laughing, “I always wait for the trailers, and if anyone hasna come by then, the chair is free game.”

“I do the same thing!” I wiped a stray tear from my eye… this man.

We watched the beginning of the movie in silence and I thanked God that he wasn’t one of those annoying movie talkers, always interjecting with his opinion every five seconds.

As time passed, Jamie’s hand inched closer and closer to mine, before he finally intertwined his fingers with mine.

I smiled at him, and leaned my head against his shoulder. Going to the movies on a first date was always tricky, since you really couldn’t talk and get to know each other. But I felt I was learning things about him even in the silence. In the way he laughed at the funny parts, and squeezed my hand tightly as the ship sank. He was a man of feeling, a man of passion.

I couldn’t help but lift my head and sneak a glimpse at his face as Jack drifted down into the water. He was crying. Not sobbing, but a few tears slid down his face, and when he caught me looking at him, he laughed. He brought our joined hands up to his face and wiped his tears with the back of my hand.

“There, there.” I felt tears of my own springing to my eyes, not because of the movie, but because of the intense emotions I was feeling for Jamie.

When the lights came up, we sat there for a moment, our hands still clasped, laying on his thigh. “Do ye want to go for a wee walk? Before I take ye home.”

“Sure,” I smiled, and we left the theater, heading in the opposite direction of my house.

“I’d like to see ye again, Claire.”

“Really? Asking me out on a second date before the first is even over?” I laughed, wrapping my arm around his. “How bold of you to assume I enjoyed this one.”

He turned his face to me, his eyes wide, “But I fed ye popcorn and candy, Sassenach. How could ye no’ be pleased?” Jamie walked us towards a fountain in the middle of a small park.

“I did enjoy it, Jamie.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain, giving his knee a gentle pat for me to sit on. With previous relationships, I had never been so touchy this quickly. But with Jamie, it was all I wanted to do. My hands ached for his when they were apart, and my lips were practically burning with the need to feel his against mine.

“Maybe for the next date,” he slid his arm around my back to hold me there against his lap, “we do somethin’ that requires more talkin’… I didna realize until we got to the movies how little of it we’d be doin’.”

I looked into his fathomless blue eyes, those same eyes I had dreams about for the past few weeks since I met him. “There’s something else that we could do right now…” sighing, I ran my fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, “that requires little talking.”

He arched his eyebrow, and his hand came to cup my cheek. “I would verra much like to kiss ye, Sassenach.”

I leaned in closer to him, “Please,” I begged, and finally our lips met in the most delicious way.

He tasted salty from the popcorn as I ran my tongue along his bottom lip. Jamie made a contented sigh against my mouth, and he pulled me closer against him. If we weren’t in public, I’m sure we would have ended up tearing each other’s clothes off just then.

His kiss left me feeling so alive, full of electricity. Since my horrible break up with Frank, I had been so down on myself, blaming myself for my failed relationship. If I was being honest, from the beginning, Frank made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be with him.

It was the opposite with Jamie. As he held me in his arms, in a small park in Edinburgh, he conveyed his true feelings with his lips. Every touch was a promise, a spark of hope that made me feel worthy - that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could be whole again.

#fraser memorial #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #fanfiction #mclairefras #jamie and Claire's first date #movie date #chapter 3

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

Text

The Last All-Clear (4)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

This story is a series of vignettes following the premise: “Imagine if Jamie travelled through the stones, but instead of finding Claire in Boston he found himself having arrived years too early, when the War was still happening and Claire had yet to meet him… What would he do?”

Formatting note: Bolding in Jamie’s letters = underlining

Previously:

(Part 1) September 17, 1942: A Rusty Nail

(Part 2) December 3, 1942: Comb and Glove

(Part 3) 1943: Blood and Whisky

1943-1944: Gifts and Ends

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

1 September

Another long night in surgery by the end of which I wanted nothing more than to scream.

But, as always, Danton was there waiting for me at the shed with whisky and an open ear. I don’t know how he always knows when I’m in most need of company, but it means the world to know I’ve got a friend, not just friendly people with whom I work, but a friend. He’s always there to listen, drink with me, say a word of encouragement, and get me laughing by the time I leave to go to sleep. Still a tough nut to crack, all things considered, but I’ve rarely encountered someone so intuitive and incisive. He’s quiet, but when he speaks, it’s with such intention.

Add another tidbit to the Danton file: his mother’s name was Hélène and she had red hair. It makes him sad to talk about her, but he loved her very much.

9 3 2

Will ye have you noticed, reading this, years hence, that I’m a different person these last several months than in the ones before? That I go days—weeks, even— without writing single word? That when I do, it’s brief pleasantries: what I ate, the tasks I undertook?

It isna because my days are less full than before; quite the contrary. Only, if I dinna force myself to recount the way I’ve let myself act around you, the way I order my day so that I can see you, the way I encourage your attentions, chaste and merely friendly as they are....If I allow myself to simply go to sleep with the sound of your voice still fresh in my ear, I’m better able to live with myself for it. ‘Tis infinitely easier to let myself live my days in an unexamined happiness, however fleeting, however much I feel the shame of it in my bones, deep down. Writing of it, having to face it, makes my weaknesses so abundantly and painfully clear. Denial, I have found, is its own sweet comfort.

Will you understand this, Sassenach? Will you understand the depth of loneliness that can drive a person to be so pitifully less than he ought?

Still, with every day that passes, each day torn between restraint and joy in your companionship, I find the voice of better judgement murmuring more and more determinedly in the back of my mind, the same questions that have been there from the beginning of this nightmare: What is it that I actually accomplish on your behalf? Is it only my pride that keeps me here? Would it be better for you, be less risky, if I were to simply leave, go to Scotland and bide my time until you should return? Am I doing you any good at all by staying?

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

25 December

A working Christmas, but a merry one. Wrote a long letter to Frank with all my love.

Danton seemed absolutely shocked when I handed him his gift, and he tried to scold me for it, but everyone can use a new scarf, I insisted! It brings out the blue in his eyes. He grumbled about it even then, but honestly I think he was just embarrassed he didn’t have anything for me in return. Told him it was the least I could do to pay him back for drinking all of his good whisky, month after month. Then I told him the truth: that his friendship has been a tremendously dear gift to me this year. I swear to God, the man actually blushed.

9 9 1

A new year, today, mo nighean donn. Ye pushed a paper cup of champagne into my hand at the gathering in the mess hall and kissed my cheek before running off to dance with your friends. It was a lively song first, but followed by that bittersweet one that brings tears to my eyes every time, even if I canna discern the tune:

....how happy, my darling, we’ll be,

when they turn up the lights,

and the dark, lonely nights

are only a memory.

You sat off to the side, during that one, looking as lonely and sorrowful as I myself must have appeared.

Nineteen hundred and forty-four. Another year closer to when I can take your face in both my hands and kiss you without end, at the stroke of midnight or no.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

13 January

Saw Danton wearing his blue muffler again. Teased him about it and he immediately grinned and pulled a little cloth-wrapped bundle out of his pocket. The bastard intentionally baited me!

My Christmas gift turned out to be a little carved-wood oval, polished and sleek as a pebble, with an intricate interlace pattern that, at the center, knits inward to form a dragonfly. It’s small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, and I honestly can’t stop staring at it. The time it must have taken him, and the precision needed for working on so tiny a canvas! He demurred, of course, when I raved about the craftsmanship, but I know he was pleased I liked it.

1 0 0 9

You stitched up a wee French laddie today, no more than four years of age. He was hurt in the course of fleeing with his family, and it was clear that he was terrified of soldiers and of being in camp. Ye spoke to him softly in his own language as ye worked, though, soothing and comforting him as though he were your own. Ye sang to him, too. Being so sadly precluded from music myself, these last years, it didna occur to me before that ye might have such a lovely voice.

I’ve passed these last few hours in such beautiful peace, mo ghraidh: imagining the day when ye might take my head in your lap and sing to me as you stroke my hair; a day when a song drifts through our rooms, our home, and I peek through a doorway to see you cradling our child, singing them to sleep.

1 0 1 3

You didna tell me he was coming to camp.

Should it reassure me, an indication that I’m insignificant enough that it didna even cross your mind to mention it? Or is it the worst of signs: that ye didna want to speak of your husband, of all people, to me?

There he stood, there at the quiet edge of camp by the pond, behind the barracks. Franklin Wolverton Randall, patiently waiting for his wife to go on leave. He truly does look like the bastard. I nearly reached for my knife when I saw him standing there, unannounced, unexpected. Then to see you, out of uniform, hair long and loose as ye ran for him, flew into his arms with that same abandon as you used to enter mine? See him kiss you, touch you like that—

I watched for far too long, mo chridhe. I confess as much to you, here. It was wrong of me, but I simply couldna look away. Even after the two of ye had left, hand-in-hand, your face alight and beaming....I sat under that tree for hours—trying not to think of where and how and for how long he was bedding you, tasting you. Would ye be making those same small sounds for him, reaching for him with that wild, lovely abandon? Would ye be crying out his name, moaning for him as

Forgive me.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

24 January

Lord, it’s positively wretched trying to undertake an intimate visit in a mobile camp with no friendly town or inn nearby. A spare tent and two mattresses pushed together on the ground hardly can qualify as a love nest. Still, throw enough cozy blankets on top and a cozy husband within for good measure, and not a bad way to spend a day or two off.

It’s been over a year since we last saw each other. Always a little strange trying to get back into things, but it’s so good to have him here, to have even a short time to reconnect. It’s easy to get caught up in work, day after day and month after month; easy to forget, amidst it all, that I’ve a marriage to maintain.

Danton’s taken ill, apparently; asked for today and tomorrow off. Hoping he’s alright.

1 0 1 5

I wanted him to be cruel. I wanted him to be the worst kind of scum.

But when I was so startled seeing his face again unexpectedly today that I dropped a hammer on my foot, he came over at once to see if he could help. He was kind and considerate, and had a warmth to his eyes, even toward a complete stranger such as me. He has nothing of the cruelty of his putative ancestor, not to me, and more importantly, not toward you. I could see the tenderness he has for ye, the evident care and the love as the two of ye made your farewells.

It only serves as yet another proof. You’re safe while you’re in camp. You’re safe when you’re with Frank. You dinna need me watching over you. You never did. The only one that needed it was me.

Today, Claire. It ends today. I promise you this.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

9 February

Danton is angry with me, I think. Every time I try to approach him to talk or just say hello, he’s turning tail and making for the other side of camp. He’s never in the wards anymore, nor do I see him taking his meals at the usual times. I made excuses for him for the first several days, but it’s clear, now, that he’s actively avoiding me.

It shouldn’t bother me as much as it has, but damn it all, I miss him; that calm support he’s been to me this year.

Jesus, looking at that on the page, I want to scratch it out. I have no right to be so entitled or territorial or whatever you wish to call it. The man’s never even told me his first name, for god’s sake, and he hardly knows a thing about me, either. Still, there’s a hollow feeling in my chest every time I feel that dragonfly carving in my pocket. I miss him, and I don’t know what I did.

How bloody dare he.

1 0 6 5

I ache for you, mo nighean donn.

April 1, 1944

I rounded the corner so quickly, neither of us had time to avoid the other. We both just stood there in the narrow passage between tents, teetering mid-step. I smiled and opened my mouth to speak. He nodded once, put his head down, and walked around me.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” I snapped, turning to follow him with my glare, “honestly? Danton, I’m not going to bite you.”

He stopped, but did not turn. “I know, madame.” Quiet. lifeless.

“Will you at least tell me what it is I’ve done to offend you so grievously?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but his shoulders tensed further. “You ‘ave done nothing, madame.”

“Well, something clearly changed.” All my pent-up bewilderment was barreling out of me in a fury. “You’ve avoided me completely for weeks. You won’t even look at me any more, like the past year was just— erased overnight! I mean, Jesus H. Christ, we used to be friends, didn’t we?”

A momentary flash of blue over his shoulder before the hair and the hat obscured him. “In truth, we do not know one another, madame. We ‘ave been friendly acquaintances.”

“Ac...Acquaintances.” My blood boiled and hot tears prickled in my eyes. “That’s it? That’s.... bloody it?” My voice came out shrill and small.

His was like a dead man’s. “What more did you think it was, madame?”

I couldn’t even speak for a few moments, so great was the shock and hurt.

He made to walk away, but then I found my voice, low, teeth gritted. “Perhaps I don’t know you in the sense of having all the details of your life’s story. Why? Because you deign to divulge such things only once in a blue moon and I’ve respected that.” I rallied, trying to maintain control of the lump in my throat and my rage. “But you meant a hell of a lot more to me than I apparently meant to you.”

He was still for moment longer, then he turned and faced me squarely, looking me in the eye with a hostility I had never before seen there. “I am no longer interested in being your charity case, madame. And it is time you learned to carry on without needing a man to constantly congratulate you.”

He may as well have sliced me open.

“Fuck you, too, then.”

I threw the dragonfly on the ground and walked away without a glance backward.

1 0 8 2

It was the only way I knew to complete the break.

I am so very sorry, mo nighean donn.

I shall be leaving as soon as I have enough wages to get home. I waited all my life for you. I can wait four years more alone.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

4 May

So many battles. So many wounded. German incursions and raids have locked down the camp until further notice.

God, just let this vile war end.

1 1 3 4

You willna even speak to me, now. I hardly can blame you for it, as that was the intended result. Still, now it’s me keeping my eyes wide and searching for you at every turning, for you’ve been avoiding the usual sick bays, the places we used to encounter one another.

You’ve taken to teaching classes to the soldiers. It’s a credit to you, Claire. I’ve stood outside the tents and listened to you give your lessons on several occasions. You truly are grand at it, this world of healing and instructing. You have so much in you, Sassenach, so much to give.

I dinna wish to leave you.

C. E. B. Randall

Camp Nightwing, France

7 June

God be praised, the Americans stormed the Normandy beaches yesterday. Let this be the breakthrough that changes things, at last.

1 1 5 6

Tomorrow. I’ve been given leave to depart tomorrow.

I’ve thought long and hard about it, Claire. Even if you dinna wish to see me, even if it is only a word and a moment, I shall say farewell face-to-face.

The sack felt leaden on his shoulders, though he had hardly any possessions to his name. His old sporran. A change of clothing. His book of letters to Claire.

This is not the end, he reminded himself over and over. This is naught but the end of a chapter that should not have been opened to begin with. This is not the end.

The walk across camp felt an eternity, made still worse by the fact that she wasn’t even in the barracks, where she would normally be found at 7:00 of an evening. She wasn’t in the instructional tent. He went to the mess-hall—not there either.

“Jesus, Claire,” he muttered under his breath after a full quarter hour of searching, “where in God’s name have ye gone?

At last, he spotted a familiar face and he all but ran to catch up with her, panting a little as he said, “Excuse me, Miss Nancy?”

Nancy jumped as though he had grabbed her, and it took all his control not to roll his eyes at the flighty wee thing. She never had gotten over that initial fear and loathing for his manner and look. More’s the pity that it hadn’t worked half so well on Claire.

He recovered and gave a cordial bow. “I am most sorry to ‘ave startled you. Would you tell me, please, where I might find Nurse Randall?”

“Whew, um,” Nancy put a dramatic hand on her heaving heart as she blinked and thought. “Oh! Yes, well, she’s not here, of course.”

“Not here?” In his shock, he nearly forgot to put on the French accent. “Where ‘as she gone?”

“She was part of the escort that set out to take those American chaps back.”

“...Ameri—” Then the world was shifting, tumbling, fragments of memory from another war suddenly sparking into horrific clarity.

“Surely you heard about it? The two Airborne lads that came to us because they got separated from their men after Normandy? They’ve been here for the last week, I can’t believe you haven’t—”

But Jamie wasn’t listening. He was running.

Of all the things Claire had told him, how could he have failed to recollect THIS? For today was the day Claire nearly got herself killed by German fire.....the day when Claire could get herself killed by German fire.

#;mod bonnie #The Last All-Clear

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